Larson and The Sleepover
by Langwurst
Summary: To protect a most delicate of treasures Larson must take it to a safe house where his host is more likely to kill him then anyone else.


I of course own none of the characters or locations of Tomb Raider even though it is set in the real world, If I did swimsuit cheats would be mandatory and Curtis would be burning slowly in hell.

Larson started running as soon as he heard the gunfire. It should be pointed out that he was running towards the gunfire as apposed to usual when he was associated with the gunfire and everyone else could run where they felt like.

He arrived a few seconds later, by then however all that was left were a pile of bodies; and the girl. Larson was no good at guessing ages because guessing was a little too close to thinking, but she was young. She was sucking her thumb and holding a toy rabbit. The rabbit had a bib. It said "Mister Wabbit." All in all this didn't seem to be a hard picture to digest. It was as already mentioned the pile of bodies that added a certain nightmare inducing quality to the picture. The ones Larson had mentally labelled as bodyguards seemed to be the ones who had been doing the firing. The others were a few centuries out of date in death dealing equipment they were dressed from head to toe in black and dead hands gripped at cold swords. If Larson's cognitive abilities had been up to scratch he would of further noted that the body guards seemed t die of sharp instruments some of the black cad whatever's did indeed have large lead filled holes in them, others of their terminally fashion sensed friends seemed to be mauled or possibly compacted.

'Err hi there.'

The girl sucked her thumb furiously. Larson who wasn't any good at speaking anyway held out his hand. The girl took it.

Five minutes later they were speeding down the freeway and Larson was fairly sure they were being followed. As he drove he thumbed through a small black book, he couldn't think of anywhere to go around here but the book generally had a longer memory than him. An address grabbed his attention it was the same town as one on a large sign post that caught his light beams. Making a decision at the final minute he swung into the exit cutting up several cars causing them to crash.

'Yes?' A tall elderly black man in the traditional dress of all butlers everywhere answered the door. He was also dead but not obviously so, the walking and attempt at breathing added to the disguise.

'Is she in?'

'One is not sure if you would like to take a seat I will enquire presently.' The butler walked off rather stiffly. The overly impressive porch was furnished with a long bench, Larson took it, feeling a bit silly he put it down again. Then sat on it.

'What, and it had better be good is the meaning of this?'

'Look I just need a place to hide out while I figure out who she belongs to.' Larson motioned the child whose thumb by now must of have been going wrinkly.

'Herself Presumably. Look I can't help you on your little lap dog quest cause A, I'm still evil and B, we just had the floor polished.' Larson's quest had started as soon as he had realised he was in love with Lara Croft, (several weeks after meeting her what with the coma and drugs.) to put it abruptly he had travelled the globe hoping to put enough weight on the good end of the see saw to bring himself up to Lara's level.

'Don't you care about what we had?'

'Good gods man what are you on about?'

'Well we where in a bad once.' Natla paused and reflected on that occasion she had only done it to steal a powerful artefact but it had been fun all the same.

'No, even so no.'

'Well if not for me can you do it for the kids?'

'What kids?'

'Well there's her.' Natla regarded the young girl for the first time; a cocktail of emotions crossed her face she then pulled Larson out of ear shot of the young girl.

'She's not human.' Hissed Natla.

'What?'

'Can't you feel the power rolling off her?'

'Nah.' Larson regarded the small child who had abandoned the joys of thumb sucking to momentarily have a thorough nasal excavation. 'Nah.' He repeated.

'Get it out of here something with that power… something with that much power… that much power.' She paused. 'A young girl at such a tender age with such abundant power is going to need someone to tell her how to use it, someone who has been through it all before maybe, someone who knows what its like to grow up with powers so powerful you can't control them.' She started grinning reminiscent of cats from the county of Cheshire. Larson looked at her and her face became tight lipped again.

'So your gonna help?'

'Yes.' Natla walked up to the small child. 'Your going to stay with me tonight, won't that be nice' Small Child shrugged. 'And you can call me Aunt Natla.' Again this was met with an all purpose shrug,

The child refused to provide any information as to herself what so ever, so, instead they had had supper. It was quite a good supper. Natla had instructed to her chef that Larson and the child's food was to be suffused with sleeping drugs. As nothing of the kind could be found in the mansion the chef had instead cooked a large meal and provided warm milk afterwards. Despite miraculously not working on Larson it had put Natla's youngest guest to sleep, she had been taken to a spare bedroom still clutching "Mister Wabbit."

'So is she worth it?'

'What?'

'Lady Bitch.' Natla was still a little sour about being killed by Lara.

'Yeah.'

'But what if right you finally do it and its all for nothing right cause she doesn't like you or something, watcha gonna do then hmm?'

'Dunno'

'I mean what would you be doing if you weren't on this silly little quest of yours where would you be like?

'I'd be under an open sky in a freezing gale with Pierre hunting yetis, and I'd be miles away from beautiful women.'

'You know Texan; your not as dumb as you look.' Natla smiled over the glass of brandy and the window caved in. 'Oh bloody hell.' A figure leaped into the room clad exactly as the assailants of the nights earlier fight. As it took stock of the two unflinching characters sat in their deep leather chairs a tendril of shadow crept across the floor it grabbed the assassin by the leg and drew him into a darker corner of the room where, were anybody to look only his smocking boots could be found. 'I hate doing that it feels like I'm giving in to stereotyping.' She looked at the still seated Texan. 'The kid?'

'Oh yeah thanks.' Larson left hurriedly.

'There's a secret way out in the cellar. If your still alive she added to herself. 'Jeremy?'

'Yes mahm.' The Butler had arrived out of no where.

'Tell the staff were under attack.'

'Very good mahm.'

As Larson ran up the stairs he heard the sound of more breaking glass quickly followed by the sounds of screams. So, Natla was having fun then. Again a window broke but this time between Larson and his destination. Larson reached for his trusty firearm, which wasn't there. 'The sly bitch' he had time to think before his assailant was on him. Thrusting and hacking with his katana Larson could only dodge until, seeing his opening he reached out and took the mans sword arm he delivered a stunning round house with his other fist. His opponent dazed but still upright Larson used his head. The child's door was partially open and through it he could see another black clad assassin he sped up.

In the room the mercenary started walking menacingly towards the small unfazed child. Mister Wabbit started to grow doubling quadrupling in size ad accelerating until he filled the room he looked down on the would be killer reached out took hold of him and.

Larson got to the room, other than the corpse and broken window it was a normal if somewhat bare room. The little girl was asleep, clutching a usual sized Mister Wabbit.

Larson stayed with the child, although one voice screamed for the next five minutes it seemed the attack was already over.

The Texan was sat in the kitchen, he had found that the chef had many things in common with his own mother, firstly their cooking was both exquisite secondly they were both nearly dead, but as it where approaching it from different sides of the scale. Natla entered the room stretching like a cat. Somebody knocked at the door.

'You don't think there trying a different tack do you?' They opened it anyway. Some very large men in very pin stripped suits stood in front of some very black cars.

'One missus Jacqueline Natla and One Just Larson?'

'Yep that's us honey got a problem?'

'We understand that you were kind enough to allow young Sarah the hospitality of your house last night.'

'Hang on we're not just giving her to you cause you say you know here.' Sarah ran out the house and hugged the large spokesman.

'Uncle Tony!'

'That'll do for me.'

'And I'll take the money.' Natla held out her hands and another large man similarly clad handed over a discreet suitcase.

'It's been a pleasure doing business with you boys.'

'Hang on what money?'

'The ransom money silly.'

'Bye mister.'

'Hang on we weren't holding anybody to ransom? Where we?'

'Bye Aunty Nelly!'

With that they were gone. Natla started making motions with her eyes trying to indicate that Larson should follow their example.

'So that was fun.'

'Anytime your passing Larson.'

'I'm here now.'

'Get out Larson.'


End file.
